“Actually, yeah. I stink after work.”
“Well, I wasn’t going to say anything.”
“Good. Keep it that way.” We both smile. “Wait.” I look down at my work outfit. “What are we going to do about clothes?”
“Check the bedroom. There are two suitcases in there. They even packed for us.”
“How fucking considerate. Who do you think came up with this?” I get up off the couch and, after so many hours sitting on my ass, stretch my arms overhead. My vision may be getting worse, but I don’t miss the way Maverick’s head tilts as the hem of my shirt rides up my stomach.
He clears his throat. “Initial suspicions were aimed squarely at my brother, but the more I think about it, the more I’m starting to see Clancy’s fingerprints all over this. It’s not Wagner’s style to interfere in my life.”
“Whereas my grandfather is Mr. Meddle himself.”
“Hey, use his name,” Maverick chides playfully. “Grandfather makes him sound old.”
I shake my head. “How does he manage to wrap everyone around his little finger like that?”
“It’s the cheeky smile.” Maverick gets up and walks past me, so close I can see him drop a piece of candy onto his tongue. “You should try it sometime.”
Not only did Clancy—I’m assuming it’s him—pack two days’ worth of clothes, but he didn’t forget toiletries either. Doesn’t mean I’m not still going to kill him the moment we get back to Silverstone, but his thoughtfulness means I’m inclined to let him choose his preferred method of going out.
I just finished taking a quick shower, not wanting to hog all the hot water, and am brushing my teeth.
Maverick is on my mind.
How can he not be?
We went from an explosive argument to searching for a lost animal, which turned out to be a ruse, to Maverick opening up to me about his family and his sobriety. That’s a lot of emotion in a short space of time.
I thought my family story was bad, but it’s got nothing on his. All the luxury and wealth and privilege in the world can’t make up for not feeling loved by your parents. Mom may have abandoned us, but I have fond memories of watching fireworks with my dad and riding horses under Clancy’s watchful eye. Not to mention always having Verity and Sib in my corner, too.
And I’ve never been much of a drinker either. I’ve overdone it a couple of times, and hangovers just aren’t worth it. I can’t even begin to imagine the strength it takes to confront your addiction and work on it every day the way he is. He’s a lot stronger than I’ve given him credit for.
I finish brushing my teeth and shake my shoulders out. I’m still hopped up from all that sugar. How am I meant to sleep tonight?
Much less, how am I meant to sleep in the same bed as Maverick?
Just noticing him checking me out when I stretched gave me a semi. If I weren’t so concerned about water usage, I would have rubbed one out in the shower. But instead, I’m now faced with sharing a bed with him, with my bulge imprinting the front of my gray sweats.
Great.
A knock on the door jolts me. “You all right in there, Jackson?”
“Yeah. I’m fine. Just give me a minute.”
I quickly wipe up a little, and when I open the door, Maverick is standing there. Shirtless. My gaze drops involuntarily to the contours of his sculpted pecs and sun-kissed torso.
“Don’t mean to rush you, but I need to pee real bad.”
I tear my gaze away from his chest. “That’s what happens when you consume a week’s worth of sugar in one night.”
He smiles. “Tell me about it.”
I step away to make room for him. “I’ll meet you in bed.” I flinch the second the words leave my mouth.
He strolls past me, so close his candy breath warms my skin as he murmurs, “I’ll be there soon…honey.”
I spin around to face him. “Don’t you dare call me that.”
